


Don't Mess with Routine!

by L_Durven



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, One Shot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:08:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25061386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/L_Durven/pseuds/L_Durven
Summary: Botany is Tissaia de Vries favourite class, but one Yennefer of Vengerberg just had to stick her nose into things. Again. Like always. When Tissaia's one night of self-indulgent, drunk-marking is ruined by seemingly innocent antics, someone is going to have to pay the price.
Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 16
Kudos: 146





	Don't Mess with Routine!

* * *

**A/N:** Could probably be rated M, but since it's literally smut without much of a story, here we go. For all y'all with ongoing Yennaia stories, which I have been reading religiously, this is what happens as I wait. Shame on you all. (haha just kidding). I apologize in advance as I am, once again, delirious while writing and editing.

* * *

Tissaia de Vries loved Botany. She was a woman who rarely allowed herself to show pleasure in anything other than her position, and even that was questionable. After all, the less she took pleasure in, the less there was to lose. Despite this, she made minimal effort to hide the favouritism towards her classes which involved delving into her well-developed ingredient stores.

Today’s lesson was also one of her favourite ones, though that was by far a less-known fact. Each student was to choose a potion from Aretuza’s library, research it, acquire the ingredients on their own, and then successfully brew it.

There were always a variety of outcomes: poisons, antidotes, enhancement potions, healing tonics. Sometimes there were potions to make your hair turn vibrant fluorescent shades. Ones to make you hiccup animal-shaped bubbles. The girls were still young enough that whatever they chose – even the poisons – were often more harmless than not. Though not an assignment to necessarily tuck away post-ascension, it gave Tissaia an even further understanding of the direction her students would be taking. Sometimes the results downright humoured her; however, she would die before anyone ever caught her laughing.

It was a yearly ritual for her to sit back with a glass of wine to muse over these particular papers and potions. Needless to say, it was with great annoyance that she had to forego the one night of self-indulgence she allowed herself.

No, tonight she had called for Yennefer to come see her. It was even more exasperating that the other sorceress didn’t look guilty in the slightest on entering. Ah, but of course she wouldn’t. In fact, Tissaia wasn’t entirely sure Yennefer even _knew_ the meaning of guilt. It made her equal parts frustrated and jealous.

“First you show up and get not one, but three of my girls higher than Tor Lara. Then, you begin to pilfer my stores just like you did when you were younger. Now, you are convincing students to brew things far beyond their level. And to think I practically begged you to come back here! _Gods_ ,” she muttered, now more to herself than to the cause of her ire, “ _what_ was I thinking?” Tissaia leaned back into her chair. “Fola told me that it was your idea for her to brew an aphrodisiac. And if she hadn’t – well, it’s right here in her essay. An aphrodisiac. Of all things. Yennefer, do you even understand how complex a potion like that is? How it’s practically a guarantee fail at this stage of training?”

“Oh, I fully understand the complexity of it. I don’t understand your concern though. Fola is one of your best students.” Yennefer grinned at Tissaia, immune to the storm cloud practically brewing above the Rectoress’ head. Her eyes rested on an essay and vial set aside from the others. Fola’s name was looped across the top in neat cursive. Yennefer’s face scrunched up in confusion. “I find it hard to believe she didn’t brew it properly.”

“I told them to choose a potion _within_ the libraries of Aretuza.”

“If that’s the case, then _clearly_ you have not read every single book this school has to offer. I guarantee you the recipe is within these walls, likely in a tome that, quite honestly, I can’t imagine you reading.” Tissaia’s face drew further into its already-disapproving grimace. “Well,” Yennefer offered brightly. “The only way to test it, is to taste it! Who should we summon? A stable boy? The town harlot? Stregobor?”

“Yennefer. We are not summoning anyone. I brought you here solely to chastise you.”

“Chastise me? How? By failing a girl for an untested brew? Yes, it’s a complex potion. But Fola did her research. It looks right.” She grabbed it, pulled the stopper out and took a whiff. “Hm. Well. It smells a little off, but that’s not the point.”

“Why would you encourage her to brew something like this in the first place?”

“Why wouldn’t I? It’s useful – _oh, don’t give me that look_. It’s more useful than green-fucking-hair. An aphrodisiac can help control a kingdom. Assist in producing an heir. Hell – it can be for the sole sake of adding some pizazz to a good time!” For the first time in the evening, Yennefer’s face fully fell and her voice softened to a near plea. “Tissaia, _please_. Don’t fail her because of me.”

Tissaia almost – _almost_ – felt her resolve soften. When had she ever seen Yennefer actually _care_ about someone other than herself? One fail would not necessarily make or break this girl’s future, despite Tissaia’s insistence to her girls that it would and it had. Tissaia knew that she had always harboured a soft spot for Yennefer, but hells if the girl ever found out. It would be catastrophic.

“Again. It’s far too complex for someone so young to brew correctly. Even Fola.”

“If brewed wrong, it does nothing. If it works, what’s the harm?” The sorceress pulled a chair closer and sat down.

“Oh, are you volunteering? Will you gamble with chaos and chance?”

“There’s not a lick of chaos to this. An aphrodisiac, like many other concoctions, is nothing more than a perfect balance of different items found in nature. This is no different than extra glass of wine.” Tissaia moved to mark Fola’s paper, but Yennefer hesitated. “Stop! I’ll do it. It’s not even one of the stronger ones.”

Tissaia sighed. _Honestly._ Who tested random potions, even if they were made in her classroom? Yennefer had always been rash. Wild. Consistent in pushing her buttons. Because of her, Tissaia was sure that she would spend the rest of her long life making irresponsible decisions because of her. Irresponsible decisions such as grabbing the dropper from her top drawer and slamming it shut.

So be it.

“No more than four drops,” Yennefer hesitated. “I should be able to resist that much if _I’m_ right and this potion was brewed correctly.”

“Which you are _not_.” Tissaia drew some of the clear liquid. The nice thing would have been to limit her to one or two, but instead she counted out the full four and watched them soak in under Yennefer’s tongue. She returned to marking essays while the other woman watched her. A good half hour had passed when Tissaia saw Yennefer’s lips purse. A strange look passed over her face, her mouth opened, then closed, as if she had thought better of it. Yennefer suddenly pulled at the collar of her blouse as if it was too tight.

“Well, I think I’m going to go.”

“Oh? Why don’t you stay a bit longer?”

“Because this was a terrible idea, and for me to admit that...” She paused. “ _Are you even aware how fucking gorgeous you are_?” Her hand clamped over her own mouth, eyes wide over the fingers. Tissaia’s hand froze over the paper she was marking, the tip of her pen leaving a blot where it ceased to move. “I need to go,” came the muffled response, still from the other side of a hand. Yennefer began to retreat, but the door shut and lock slid shut, as if on its own accord. Yennefer turned around, chaos seeping from her almost languidly – wild and seductive. Tissaia’s hand was still raised, clearly the culprit of the locked door. She wondered if she had finally lost her mind.

“Rectoress. Let me go…” They stared at each other for what seemed a very long time. Yennefer followed Tissaia’s hand as she pulled back the essay that had been set to the side, scribbled out the failed mark, and scratched something else in replacement. Tissaia scooped the papers up along with the vials, and neatly stacked them in her top drawer. Leaning back, she steepled her fingers and studied Yennefer with curiosity.

“What does it feel like?” Once again, Yennefer fought with her reply, clearly uncomfortable.

“What do you think? I’m _aroused_ ,” she finally growled in response. Tissaia just sat silently, eyebrow arched and waiting for more. Yennefer shifted again. “Are you for real right now? _Fine_. I’m so aroused that I could kick my legs up on your desk and fuck myself right in front of you.” Another look of horror crossed Yennefer’s face – not because she was shy about such things, but because she was standing in front of Tissaia de fucking Vries, spewing whatever thought came to mind. _Something was wrong_.

There was a long silence, and Yennefer was sure that Tissaia would take pity on her, or at least be disgusted, and finally unlock the door in dismissal. The Rectoress had schooled her expression the best she could, but she could still tell the other woman was debating something internally.

“I wouldn’t stop you.” Yennefer’s eyes darkened as she processed what Tissaia was saying. She leaned against the nearest desk and ran a hand up and twisted it along her own breast. Tissaia said nothing. A few buttons on her blouse were popped open, and she slipped a hand in to roll a nipple between her fingers. She whimpered as the trail left a delightful longing: promising everything and nothing all in one.

A flash of desire flitted across Tissaia’s features. It was subtle. The slight draw of her lip, a slight flare of her nostrils. For Yennefer, it washed whatever remaining reservation clean away. Her other hand ripped at the button of her pants. Her hand snaked in, her fingers pushed past the remaining barrier and slid between slick folds. Yennefer was pretty sure she swore as her fingers found an engorged clit. She rubbed her arousal frantically, feeling her breath hitch.

Though her ears were practically roaring, Yennefer did not miss the sound that came from the woman in front of her. She froze, and her full attention swivelled straight back to the Rectoress. Tissaia was still sitting in her seat, but was now leaning on one arm, head tilted slightly back, eyes half-lidded. One hand was wrapped tightly around the end of an arm of her chair, the other hand up by her mouth. The knuckle of a relaxed fist was pinched between her teeth. She released it and shifted in her seat. It had been an attempt to muffle the moan that had still escaped her.

“Take off your clothes, Yennefer.” Tissaia’s voice was still commanding, despite the obvious shift in her chair and the unbuttoning of the top few buttons of her dress. Yennefer watched, mouth dry, as her own fingers fumbled at her trousers. They slid off her body and she pulled the shirt from herself as well, tossing them in a pile on the floor.

Yennefer had never been shy of her body. She stood before Tissaia, proud and naked. The Rectoress’ gaze was raking over her in a way she had never seen, never knew she wanted to see. No, she corrected herself, never admitted that she wanted to see. She had wanted this, but who would have dared? _If it wasn’t for this stupid aphrodisiac overriding all her common sense…_

Part of her was still waiting for the Rectoress to eviscerate her. But instead, the other woman was sitting there clearly having some sort of internal battle about her own arousal, and honestly? It was glorious to watch.

Tissaia finally pushed back in her chair and motioned to the desk. Yennefer raised her chin just a touch higher, flicked her hair over her shoulder and approached with an almost alarming confidence. They didn’t break eye contact as Yennefer moved in front of Tissaia, then in a fluid motion pushed herself up on the desk and crossed her legs as though she wasn’t naked at all.

“Lean back, piglet. And don’t touch yourself.” Tissaia voice came out a lot lower than intended.

“Don’t call me that,” Yennefer grumbled, but did as she was told, putting a foot on either side of Tissaia, taking over the arms of her chair. The Rectoress dragged a few fingers along Yennefer’s calves, relishing in the shiver that followed in their wake.

“Oh? Does it irritate you? Because little piglets who fuck around with my very-organized, very-predictable education routines irritate me.” Yennefer’s eyes flashed – she didn’t know if she was angry or aroused or maybe both, and did the Rectoress just swear?

“Tell me what it feels like.”

“No,” she bit out. As Tissaia just continued to wait for her answer, Yennefer felt as though she was drowning. “I want you so badly, I can barely stand it. I can barely breathe!”

“Oh? And when did you realize that you wanted to fuck me? Aphrodisiacs can’t make something out of nothing, dear.” Another long pause.

“In Rinde. Why are you asking so many questions? Why do I keep answering them!” Tissaia pushed herself out of her chair and leaned into the girl on her desk. Yennefer moaned at how closely Tissaia’s body was pressed into her. She could feel her lips ghosting over her shoulder, up her neck, along her jaw. Never doing more than the occasional brush. Tissaia’s hand came up and thread through the other woman’s hair, then tilted her head. Her breath was hot against her ear.

“Because, love, I _have_ read every book in Aretuza. If you had cross-referenced, you would know that adding a touch of juniper would add a bit extra enlightenment to your beloved aphrodisiac.”

“You _bitch_ ,” she growled, but there was no hatred behind it and she knew the Rectoress could tell when she felt Tissaia’s lips quirk against her. “You _knew_ her potion was brewed right all along!”

“Don’t _ever_ disrupt my Botany class again.” Tissaia’s mouth was hovering at her collarbone. She released her hold on Yennefer’s hair and dragged the tips of her nails down, brushed over a nipple that was already hard with want. “You may leave if you wish, Yennefer. We can stop this now.”

“Do you want me to?” Yennefer asked. “It’s either I scream your name on this desk, or in my chambers. Tell me what to do.” She let out a relieved sigh as Tissaia finally pressed her lips against her neck. Hips bucked involuntarily and she moved to wrap them around the sorceress’ waist, but the woman held them apart. Tissaia’s lips travelled down and across her breasts, leaving a searing fire everywhere they had touched. Her hands followed the curves of Yennefer’s body, then suddenly she was gone, back into the chair from where she came.

“Touch yourself for me.” She ran teasing nails along Yennefer’s calves once again.

The next sound from Yennefer was a half-growl, half-whine as she did as she was told. Her head tossed back, and her curls pooled on Tissaia’s desk. Her mouth was parted and making the most delightful keening noise. Tissaia sucked in a breath as Yennefer pushed a finger into herself. She was absolutely soaked, Tissaia thought, and for a moment was unsure if she was making the observation about herself, or the girl in front of her. Yennefer’s fingers returned to her clit and began to move feverishly. Not able to control herself, Tissaia moved closer, draping Yennefer’s legs over her shoulders. She reached around her thighs and grabbed her hands, holding them to the desk. Wide eyes watched her mouth trail up her thigh.

There was a slew of expletives from the sorceress above her as Tissaia’s mouth reached their destination, and as she drew her tongue almost agonizingly slow up and around Yennefer’s folds. She could feel the other woman shudder as she sucked her clit into her mouth and held it. She pressed the captured hands roughly into the desk as a warning, before she let go and used her fingers to massage Yennefer and pull her apart. The cool air brushed against whatever her hot mouth wasn’t touching. 

Yennefer’s toes curled and her back arched as Tissaia pushed a finger into her. Who knew that being fucked on Tissaia de Vries desk, by the woman herself, was going to be the highlight of her week? Maybe her entire life.

Tissaia’s mouth was back on her again with renewed vigor.

 _Fuck_.

Yennefer’s hands clenched and almost painfully pressed into the desk as her orgasm peaked and washed over her. The last wave of pleasure was just beginning to dissipate when Tissaia hauled her from the desk and turned her around. She pushed her down roughly and used her own leg to force Yennefer’s feet apart.

The raven-haired sorceress gave a delighted moan as Tissaia’s fingers began driving into her from behind. Her hands were splayed along the desk, breasts pressed and moving in time with Tissaia’s thrusts, which were becoming rougher and faster. Gods, if this was how she was going to die, so be it. She didn’t even try to mask the sounds that spilled from her lips.

Tissaia had such a grip on her hip, Yennefer was sure she would have bruise marks in the morning. And she was okay with that. In fact, she hoped that by the end of this she had all sorts of marks. The Rectoress was unrelenting, and she could feel another climax roiling and threatening to tear her apart.

Yennefer wasn’t entirely sure what all was tumbling from her mouth. She wasn’t sure if it was even understandable. She wasn’t sure if she was sobbing against the table in sated desire, or if she was just matching the thrusts with moans and cries of ecstasy. She came again, body seizing. This time it did not come in a silent cry of satisfaction, but with Tissaia’s name tearing from her with enough ferocity that anyone within twenty paces of the room would have clearly heard.

When Yennefer gathered her wits and pushed herself in an upright position again, surely a tangle of hair and sweat, she half-expected a lecture on her noise level. Instead, the Rectoress was staring at her with a pleased, controlled smirk. Yennefer grabbed Tissaia’s hand and brought it to her lips, taking in the fingers that had just fucked her senseless. Tissaia's smirk morphed into something more primal, and Yennefer couldn’t help but feel victorious.

Her lips travelled along Tissaia’s palm until they could go no higher. She gently slung the hand over her shoulder, and smiled as the other one copied it.

“Yennefer,” Tissaia warned, but her protest was cut short as Yennefer’s hand squeezed a breast before reaching for the buttons to undress the woman in front of her. She ignored the few touches that tried to sway her from her task. If the Rectoress really wanted to keep her clothes, Yennefer knew that she would.

“Isn’t enough,” she whispered against her cheek. “I need all of you. I need to touch you. I need… _everything_.” She pushed the dress from Tissaia’s shoulders. The Rectoress said nothing else as Yennefer continued to remove every scrap of clothing from her, and still said nothing as Yennefer rocked back on her heels with an appraising gaze before standing. Her eyes followed Tissaia’s form from her feet up. “You’re stunning.” Tissaia’s hands came up and cupped Yennefer’s face. Yennefer wondered if she should be worried that Tissaia had been so quiet. But they were getting closer, and Yennefer wrapped her hands around Tissaia’s waist and allowed herself to be pulled in.

Their faces were mere inches apart, and Tissaia was still studying her with an unreadable look. Yennefer’s heart was nearly pounding out of her chest. The two of them were eying each other up as though the very world might end if they went any further. Tissaia’s eyes drifted shut first.

Gods, Tissaia was going to _kiss_ her.

Yennefer had kissed – well, she didn’t keep track. Sometimes she kissed a lover, sometimes she didn’t. A kiss did not mean much to her, but with the tension that was sweltering between the two of them, it seemed even more intimate than what Tissaia had just done to her. Their lips brushed. Yennefer could feel goosebumps race along her arms. She could feel her lungs stop working. She knew by the way Tissaia sighed and melted into her that the feeling was mutual. When they parted, lips swollen, Tissaia stared at Yennefer with something akin to reverence. It was possessive and wanting and Yennefer could have crowed in delight. This look, she suspected, was for her and her alone.

“Yennefer,” Tissaia sighed against her lips, and she pulled her into another kiss. Deeper. Needier. The whole world was melting and she quite frankly didn’t give a shit that a tiny part of her was screaming to run. She was tumbling down a path that she couldn’t return from, but for now, she just couldn’t bring herself to stop. They became a tangle of limbs, the delicious feeling of their bare skin pressed against one another. Yennefer tumbled back into Tissaia’s chair, pulling the smaller form on top of her. Her fingers brushed up the Rectoress’ thigh and stroked. She watched a tumble of emotion cross the other woman’s face, and revelled in the look of satisfaction when Yennefer finally pushed her fingers into her.

Yennefer moved and the small frame moved in unison as well. Tissaia had one leg propped up on a chair support, with the other on the floor so she could support her own thrusting. Tissaia made a mixture of soft moans and satisfied breaths. A flush began at Tissaia’s neck and crept down across her chest. Pieces of hair came loose from her bun. Her head was thrown back in ecstasy as she moved quicker against Yennefer’s fingers. She wondered if Tissaia felt the same fist of admiration clenching around her heart while watching Yennefer.

The Rectoress was riding her fingers like her life depended on it, but despite this, she looked every inch collected and regal as always. She should have been a Queen, Yennefer decided, convinced that nothing would ever make this woman look undone, even if she was about to be so. Yennefer groaned in arousal as Tissaia reached down to touch herself. There was a shudder as her pleasure crowned.

“Look at me,” Yennefer rasped, and the woman let go of herself and wove her fingers in Yennefer’s hair. She kissed Yennefer again, pressed their foreheads together, nibbled near the edge of her mouth. She met Yennefer’s eyes as she slammed herself down a final time and a shudder ripped through her. Yennefer could barely move her fingers with how tight Tissaia's walls clenched around her.

“ _Yen_.” They did not tear their gaze from one another until the last quiver had finished it’s pulse through her core. 

They sat together for several long minutes, foreheads together and sharing breath. When Yennefer removed her fingers the Rectoress gave a small sigh.They dressed quietly, but not awkwardly. Without speaking, they assisted with each other’s buttons. They smoothed invisible wrinkles from each other’s clothes. They pressed against each other as if they could not reach the fastenings.

“I need to finish marking,” Tissaia finally whispered against Yennefer’s lips. The younger sorceress huffed as though the announcement was of great offense.

“Very well. But know that I will not be apologizing for pissing you off. Not now.” Tissaia just rolled her eyes and returned to her desk, pulling the essays out and laying them out as if nothing had happened. The younger sorceress made to leave, but heard her name and turned.

“It was Rinde for me as well.” She did not elaborate any more, and Yennefer couldn’t hide the almost predatory smile.

“Will you be marking for the rest of the evening?”

“Perhaps another hour. In the meantime, if you would be a dear and procure a bottle of Aretuza’s finest? I would be much appreciative.” Yennefer just raised an eyebrow and shut the door behind her.

Tissaia made quick work of the projects, and was marking her last essay when she felt Yennefer’s consciousness press against the forefront of her mind. There was a press of pleasure. An image of Yennefer barely clothed, sprawled along a crimson settee that she knew to be in Yennefer’s guest chambers. There was a bottle of Tissaia’s favourite whine resting between two pale thighs. A variety of fruit and breads were spread along the table.

 **Are you done yet, or shall I drink this alone?**

**Brat. I’m coming.**

**_Oh, you will be_. **Another wave of pleasure and Tissaia closed her eyes, reveling in it, and knowing full well she had walked into that one. Yennefer was going to effectively ruin centuries of carefully cultivated disinterest in the span of a single night, but Tissaia couldn’t bring herself to care even a little bit.

With a wave of her hand, the candles threw her classroom into darkness. A night for self-indulgence, indeed.


End file.
